


FULL MOON NIGHT

by Rebel_Melinda



Series: FULL CIRCLE [7]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Melinda/pseuds/Rebel_Melinda
Summary: Sighing, Jim retrieved the phone and dialed his brother’s number.  After a moment, he began speaking.  “Stevie.  About that woman you saw with Dad?  You know her.  In fact, you were in jail with her.”





	FULL MOON NIGHT

Geoffrey St. Cyr closed the folder with a sigh and slid it into his briefcase. Carefully locking it, he laid it on the floor at his feet. There was only one other passenger in the first-class section of the airplane. And he trusted her with his life…not to mention the contents of his briefcase.

A tall thin man with thinning black hair and bright green eyes, he absently straightened his tie, then absently fingered the crease in his trousers. Remembering his poverty stricken childhood, he took special pleasure in wearing expensive clothing whenever possible. “We can ask for another team, you know,” he finally spoke.

The woman next to him chuckled. “I’m sure Edward would just love to hear that.” Even after years of living in Britain, she still retained what most people called an American accent. 

“Edward can go fuck himself,” Geoffrey snorted. He was rewarded with a genuine laugh. “I’d even pay to watch,” he confided, thinking of his superior’s elephantine bulk.

“Be nice, Geoffrey.”

“I’m always nice,” he replied, gently squeezing her hand. “And I’m serious, love.”

“There’s not enough time to get another team in place. Besides, our cover has been established.”

Geoffrey sighed. He looked past the woman and saw the skyline of Cascade, Washington in the distance. “I imagine it’s changed.”

“Most likely. Nothing remains the same.”

He heard the wistfulness in her voice. “Don’t try to convince me you don’t have regrets.”

Mary Margaret Grace Stevens Ellison St. Cyr finally turned away from the window. She had retained her youthful figure and features. Her thick brown hair had retained its original color with the help of discreet chemicals. And she was still the most beautiful woman Geoffrey had ever seen.

“I will always regret leaving my children. But I will never regret choosing you.” She smiled when Geoffrey squeezed her hand.

“He’s bound to recognize you,” Geoffrey warned.

Grace silently nodded and turned her head to stare out the window.

“Will you try to see the children?” Geoffrey prodded. For him, Grace's sons were her children and not grown adults.

“I don’t know,” Grace admitted. “If we can accomplish this with no one the wiser…perhaps. I really don’t know.”

Geoffrey quickly kissed her hand. “Whatever you wish, love. You know that.”

Grace leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder. “Is it really a coincidence that William has been seen with…her more than once? Considering the connection between…”

“Jealous?” Geoffrey teased. He held his breath.

“Of course not.”

Geoffrey’s green eyes narrowed. She’d answered far too quickly.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

**TWO DAYS LATER**

“You know, man, I wouldn’t have minded all the wasted time if they’d just apologized. A simple ‘sorry, our mistake’. Is that really too much to ask?” Blair Sandburg grumbled.

Jim Ellison grunted. He didn’t know if he was grunting in agreement or just in weariness. Four days on a round-the-clock stakeout coordinated by the FBI. He should have known better. 

Their information had been faulty. They’d wound up watching the wrong man. He should have known better.

Four days of eating…sleeping…living in the back of a van. He **really** should have known better.

Neither man had ever been so glad to see the front door. All either of them wanted was a shower and a bed…and not necessarily in that order.

Jim reached for his keys, then stiffened as he automatically extended his hearing into the loft. He put his left hand over Blair’s mouth. Ignoring the muffled protest, he reached for his gun with his right hand. “Someone’s in there,” he muttered.

Blair nodded in understanding. He watched as Jim quietly unlocked the door. Ignoring the Sentinel’s hand motion that clearly said ‘stay here’, he followed the other man into the loft.

 _‘I’d probably drop dead of a heart attack if he ever stayed put.’_ Jim half-turned towards the bathroom just as the door opened. “Stop right there!” he ordered.

A woman shrieked.

Sandburg peered around Jim’s shoulder. “Mom?”

Jim briefly closed his eyes and re-holstered his weapon.

Clad in a diaphanous robe that clung to her damp body, Naomi began nervously laughing. “You both frightened me!”

“Sorry. We didn’t expect to find somebody here,” Blair grinned. He walked towards his mother and gave her a tight hug.

“I left messages…” Naomi’s hand fluttered in the general direction of the answering machine.

“We…uh…haven’t been home in a couple of days,” Blair admitted.

“Sweetie, are you feeling alright?” Naomi put a hand on her son’s forehead. “You look exhausted.” Before he could answer, she looked at Jim. “And you don’t look any better, Jim Ellison.”

“Nice to see you, too, Naomi,” Jim smiled in obvious appreciation.

Seeing that smile, Blair turned to his mother, partially blocking Jim’s view. “Uh…Mom…don’t you think you…” He lowered his voice. “…should get dressed?”

“Oh, Blair.” Naomi patted his cheek. “You’re such a sweetie.”

“Yeah. Sweet.” He made ‘shooing’ motions with both hands. 

Naomi impishly smiled at Jim as she glided across the loft towards Blair’s room.

“Hey, Mom. We don’t really have a lot of food on hand right now,” Blair called. “How about we call for some take-out?”

“Don’t bother on my account, dear. I’m going out,” Naomi called through the half-closed French doors.

Blair exchanged a look with Jim. The Sentinel shrugged and opened the refrigerator. Staring inside for a moment, he finally grabbed a bottle of water.

“Anybody I know?” Blair asked, taking the bottle from Jim’s hand. The Sentinel sighed and reached for the last bottle.

“I think you’d like him,” Naomi answered. “I’m not sure which outfit to wear to dinner, though. Could you give me your opinion?”

“Sure,” Blair called back. He turned to Jim and hissed, “As soon as I get a name, we’re running a check on him.”

“Wouldn’t that be a blatant abuse of power, Chief?” Jim innocently asked. “Not to mention an invasion of privacy?” He barely managed not to laugh when Blair glared at him. He took a deep swallow of water and patiently waited while the younger man silently argued between his desire to protect his mother, his curiosity, and his morals.

“Blair?”

They turned at the sound of Naomi’s voice. She stood in stocking feet just outside Blair’s room. She wore a dark forest green silk dress that left her creamy shoulders bare. The dress hugged her curves before flaring out to end just above her knees. Around her neck, she wore a gold and jade necklace that matched the bracelets on either wrist. Her short red hair was styled in that casual Just-Outta-Bed-Fingers-Combed manner Jim had always found more than a little sexy and enticing.

Seeing Blair’s stunned look, Jim leaned one shoulder against a pillar. “If I get a vote, Naomi, I vote for this outfit. You’re beautiful,” he quietly complimented. He ignored the smack on the arm from Blair.

“Thank you, Jim.” Naomi nearly blushed. She glanced at her son. “Sweetie?”

“Yeah. Beautiful,” Blair agreed. “But then you’ve always been beautiful.” He glared at his partner. “Inside and outside.”

Jim repressed a grin and swallowed more water.

“You’re both such sweet-talkers,” Naomi laughed. She briefly disappeared into Blair’s room then reappeared with sandals matching her dress in one hand and a small gold-colored handbag in the other. “I just need to touch up my face.”

Blair followed her into the bathroom. “So…Naomi…tell me about this guy you’re meeting tonight.”

Chuckling under his breath, Jim decided to check the messages on their machine. Keeping the volume low, he jotted down a few messages, mostly from Naomi, before frowning at the brief message from his brother.

_‘Jim. Call me as soon as you get this message. I’ll either be at the office or at home. Just call, okay?’_

One eye on the bathroom, Jim took the phone and dialed his brother’s office. 

“Honey, he’s a very nice man. I met him in London while working on the Children’s International Foundation,” Naomi was explaining. “He came to check us out before recommending us to a foundation or something…or maybe it was a corporation looking to take a tax write-off…I’m not sure which it is…Moonglow keeps up with all that. Anyway, he’s an exceptional man. Just unenlightened. He was genuinely shocked by some of the conditions in which children live.”

Steven must have left instructions to put him through because he barely had time to recognize the Muzak version of ‘Smooth’ before Steven answered.

“Is something wrong, Steven?” Jim immediately asked.

“Not like you think,” his brother admitted. “God, Jim. I’m sorry about that message. You must’ve thought somebody died or something. I’d just gotten back from San Francisco and…well, I admit I was a little rattled.”

“About what?” Jim prodded. He rubbed his forehead with the water bottle. He was starting to get a major headache.

“Dad. I saw Dad in San Francisco,” Steven bluntly answered.

Jim sighed. “Dad’s an adult. He’s allowed to go to San Francisco.”

“Don’t be such a smart-ass, Jim. I’m serious.”

“About what?” Jim snapped. He heard Blair tentatively pushing for more information from his mother. _‘For God’s sake, Sandburg! Just ask her his name!’_

“Once he was educated about matters, he donated a lot of his personal time to raising money for the Foundation,” Naomi prattled. “Of course, since he’s retired, he has a lot of personal time. But he’s traveled with some of us to many cities, using his business contacts to open doors and obtain donations.”

“And he’s here in Cascade?” Blair surmised.

Naomi hesitated. “He lives here.”

“I saw Dad at the San Francisco Hyatt…with…this woman,” Steven finally blurted.

“A woman?” Jim rolled his eyes. “How dare he?”

“This isn’t funny, Jim!” Steven exploded. “He didn’t see me. He was…I don’t know…totally caught up in her. He looked…younger.”

“You think it’s serious?” Jim’s eyes narrowed.

“I think he was **very** serious,” Steven admitted. “But before I could get over to him, they’d left in a taxi. I asked some questions and found he’d just checked out.”

“Have you talked to Dad?” Jim asked.

“I’ve left messages, but he hasn’t called back,” Steven ruefully answered. “Maybe he **did** see me and is just ducking.”

“Maybe,” Jim admitted. “What did she look like?”

“I didn't see her face, but she had a good figure. And was a redhead,” Steven recalled.

“You want to be a little more specific? That’s not…” Jim frowned as someone knocked on the door. _‘Damn place is like Grand Central Station!’_ Balancing the phone between cheek and shoulder, he headed for the door. “Hang on. Somebody’s at the door.” Opening it, he saw…his father, dressed in a tuxedo, standing in the hallway.

“Hello, Jim,” William Ellison uneasily greeted.

'Good figure. Redhead.' Jim glanced over his shoulder towards the bathroom then at the phone in his hand. “I’ll call you right back.” Jim ignored his brother’s indignant squalk and disconnected the call. Opening the door, he stepped back. “Come on in, Dad.”

Not knowing whether to laugh or stomp his foot, Jim settled for lightly tapping on the open bathroom door. “Naomi. I believe your escort is here.” He decided to smile when Naomi gave him a startled look. _‘Oh yeah. This is gonna be interesting. Naomi Sandburg and William Ellison. At least Stevie doesn’t have to worry. It won’t last…wait a minute…she met him in London? And they were together in San Francisco? What the hell is going on here?’_

Blair scooted past the Sentinel, wanting to get a look at the man. He stopped short and stared. “Mr. Ellison?”

“Good evening, Blair,” William casually replied. “How have you been?”

“Uh…fine. Fine, thank you.” He turned to watch Naomi walk towards William and gently kiss him on the cheek. 

She turned to see Jim lounging against the wall, arms folded across his chest. Blair stood, almost in shock. “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you both, but you weren’t here and…well…”

“Where are you taking my…" Blair cleared his throat. "I mean…where are you two going tonight?” 

William took pity on the younger man. “We’re attending a fund-raising dinner for the Children’s International Foundation. And then, if Naomi feels up to it, we may go dancing afterwards.”

“I’m sure I’ll be up to it,” Naomi replied in a low, smooth voice. After a moment of staring at William, she turned back to Blair and Jim. “Both of you look exhausted. Don’t bother to wait up for me. You need to get some rest.”

“We’ll try,” Jim answered. “We’ll all have to get together in the next day or two. Have a nice quiet dinner.” He saw the stiffening in his father’s shoulders but Naomi just chuckled.

“I think that would be wonderful. Don’t you, William?”

The elder Ellison muttered something under his breath. Jim didn’t bother to argue that it would be a good idea. Instead, he watched as Naomi kissed Blair on the cheek then left with William.

Blair stared at the closed door. “Jim. That’s my mother your dad just left with.”

“So I noticed,” Jim nodded. “I’m just wondering which one I should be worried about.”

Blair glared at his partner then stalked off to the bathroom. 

Jim winced when the door slammed shut. Hearing the water run in the shower, he abandoned the idea of a nice long hot relaxing shower. In the mood Blair was in, there’d be nothing but cold water left.

Sighing, Jim retrieved the phone and dialed his brother’s number. After a moment, he began speaking. “Stevie. About that woman you saw with Dad? You know her. In fact, you were in jail with her.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Well, that was...interesting?"

Naomi chuckled at William's confused tone of voice.

William frowned. "You have to understand. It's been quite some years since I've been inspected by my date's family." He glanced at Naomi then back at the road. "Do you think I passed?"

"With Blair or with Jim?" Naomi impishly asked.

"Both," William groaned. "And I'm not sure which one is going to be harder to impress." He found himself laughing along with Naomi. "Poor Blair. The look on his face."

"He was trying so hard to...to **interrogate** me without being obvious about it." Naomi shook her head. "And Jim just wanted to stir the pot to aggravate him."

"And me," William pointed out.

Naomi patted his arm. "From what you've said, the two of you are patching up old wounds, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I have no doubt, Naomi, that if you shed one small tear, I'll have not only Blair but Jim coming after me to set me straight."

Naomi frowned. "William, I was teasing."

"I'm not." William assured her. "Jim's extremely protective of those he cares about."

"I think you'd fall more into **that** category that I would," Naomi somberly admitted. "I'm not sure either of them have really forgiven me for..."

"Hush," William soothed. "Blair certainly didn't act tonight like he held any sort of grudges. And I can guarantee that if Jim held the past against you, you'd sure know about it. You don't need to worry, Naomi. Blair loves you and has forgiven you. And so has Jim."

 _'If so, it's for Blair's sake.'_ Nevertheless, Naomi smiled and let her fingers curl into William's hand. 

William sighed at the line of cars waiting for valet parking at the Cascade Hilton. "It looks like a full house. That's good news for the Foundation."

"I know Blair would never believe I'd say this, but business before pleasure, William," Naomi chuckled.

"Neither of my sons would be surprised to hear **me** say that." William suddenly smiled. "But I'm sure they'd be surprised to see just how fast I can finish my business when properly motivated."

Naomi threw back her head and joyfully laughed. 

Ten minutes later, William handed the keys of his car to the young valet. Walking to the other side of the car, he held out his hand to help Naomi.

Naomi got out of the car and quickly turned around when she heard several people calling "Mr. Ellison!". Startled, she stumbled and fell against William.

"Easy," William muttered as he grabbed Naomi's arm. "Are you alright?"

Naomi stared down at William's thumb and wrist where two thin lines of blood appeared. "Oh, William, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize my nails were so sharp! Are **you** alright?"

"It's nothing," William assured her. "You're not hurt?"

"No, just startled." She glanced over her shoulder at the local press who were again calling for William then down at her left foot. “And I think my heel is loose.”

“Do we need to go?”

“Oh no. I’m sure I can fix it.” Naomi grimaced, hearing one of the reporters call William’s name. “Your public is waiting.”

William simply smiled and raised a hand in silent greeting to the press. Several photographers took quick pictures.

William took Naomi's arm and led her away. "Naomi, what's wrong? You're shaking."

"I'm sorry. I just remembered the last time I faced their cameras. When Blair had his press conference."

William grinned. "I’m sure they just wanted to know about the lovely woman on my arm."

Naomi leaned her head closer to William's. "And wouldn't they have been surprised to learn my last name?"

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"I'm dreadfully sorry to intrude, but I have to ask. What **are** you doing?"

Naomi glanced up to see a very attractive brunette woman staring at her in confusion. She smiled. "Fixing my shoe."

"With chewing gum?"

Naomi grinned. "My son used to chew gun all the time when he was a child. I was never so glad of anything as I was when he broke himself of the habit." She placed the heel of her shoe against the sole and then pressed the shoe against the wall. Grunting, she leaned against it with her entire weight. "One day, the heel of his shoe came off; and he fixed it with chewing gum. Well, actually it was bubble gum. But I think the principle is the same. After all, it sticks to the sole of your shoe when you step in it." She stepped back and examined the shoe.

"How...inventive."

Naomi smiled. "I have no intention of missing out on this evening because of a broken shoe heel." She gingerly stepped into the shoe and carefully walked a few steps. "There! That should take care of it."

"It sounds like you have a big evening planned."

The two women stood at the counter. The brunette carefully touched up her makeup while eyeing Naomi in the mirror.

Naomi broke into laughter. "Yes, you might say so." She looked in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair.

"I have a comb if you need to borrow one."

"No, thanks. My date says he likes this look." Naomi's eyes twinkled. "Who am I to tell him differently? Besides, it saves a lot on hair accessories."

"Good luck with the shoe. What are you going to do if the gum doesn't hold up?"

Naomi glanced down at the sandal then shrugged. "Dance barefoot?" She waved her fingers in farewell and left the lounge.

Grace braced herself against the counter and took a deep breath. The William Ellison she'd known would never have been seen in public with his wife had her hair not been immaculately styled. _'And I'd give quite a bit to see him dancing with a barefoot woman at a highly public social function!'_ She took a deep breath and finished with her makeup. _'But then men rarely expect the same from their lovers as they do from their wives.'_

Grace suddenly put a hand over her mouth. "My God, where did **that** come from?" She squared her shoulders and turned away from the mirror. "This is nonsense, my girl. You need to get your mind on your business. And William is **not** your business."

But as she walked out of the lounge, she wondered if her ex-husband would actually dance in public with a barefoot woman.

Geoffrey’s green eyes flickered from his wife to the attractive redhead. “Darling?”

Grace stared at him with a mixture of amusement, exasperation, and bewilderment. “She fixed her shoe with chewing gum.”

Geoffrey stared at her for a couple of seconds. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

Grace shook her head. “Never mind.” She casually glanced over her shoulder. I’m concerned that Ryan isn’t here.”

Geoffrey grunted. “He will be. He’s just waiting to make his entrance.” He smiled at his partner’s raised eyebrows. “All right, I got a message from the man tailing his limousine.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“I don’t like mistakes.”

“It was an understandable miscalculation.” Erik Ryan was a powerful man, even if you discounted the billions of dollars in his various bank accounts. Yet, despite his best efforts, his voice carried more than a little concern. “They’ve been together in London, Paris, Munich, Geneva, New York, Chicago, and San Francisco. They’ve shared hotel rooms since Geneva. It was a reasonable assumption that she would go to Ellison’s home.”

“Reasonable assumptions are not guarantees. It is critical that we recover that microdot.”

“It’s being taken care of even as we speak. All my man needs is five or ten minutes. He’s on site and just waiting.” Ryan glanced out the window and grimaced. Even with the air conditioning on high, he realized he was sweating.

“I’ll arrange for his opportunity. Don’t fail me again.”

Ryan flinched as the call was terminated. _‘How in the hell did I ever get mixed up in this?’_

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"This better be important," Jim grumbled as he wearily walked downstairs to answer the phone. Glancing at the VCR, he scowled when seeing the time showing 11:43 pm. Grabbing the receiver, he barked, "Ellison!"

"Jim, it's Simon."

Jim's shoulders slumped. The boss didn't call this late with good news. "Yes, sir." He turned his head when he heard Blair sitting up on the couch.

"I hate to call you. Especially with this. But there's been an...incident. Is Sandburg there?"

Jim's eyes widened. "Yes. What's going on?"

"The two of you need to get down to Cascade General. Sandburg's mother and your father have been brought in."

"How bad?" Jim demanded.

Blair walked over to Jim and silently stood, his blue eyes never leaving Jim's grim face.

"Your father's not badly injured, and Naomi is being evaluated. She's...unconscious." Simon's voice lowered. "There are some questions being raised as to your father's possible involvement."

 **"What?!** That's impossible!" Jim raged.

"Stand down, Ellison!" Simon angrily ordered. "I thought it was best if I called and got the two of you down here before you get a visit from some of our colleagues who won't be as sensitive as I am!"

"Yes, sir. I understand. We'll be right there."

"I'll be in the ER waiting room."

Jim slowly replaced the phone then ran his hands through his hair. "We gotta get to Cascade General, Chief. Dad and Naomi were brought in."

"What...you're kidding...aren't you?"

"No, buddy, I'm not." Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder. "Simon got called in...probably somebody saw the names and figured we were involved. He's there waiting so we need to get moving."

"But...how's Mom? Your dad?" Blair looked over his shoulder even as he ran towards his bedroom to get dressed.

"Being evaluated." Jim was glad he was almost upstairs so his partner didn't see the wince he made at the evasion.

They were dressed and out the door in under five minutes. Blair made it to the truck first and impatiently bounced, waiting for Jim to unlock the door.

Jim slowed his step, then knelt next to the front tire. He carefully ran his fingers along the tread.

"C'mon, man, let's go! We can take my car..."

"No need, Chief." Jim looked up at his partner. "It just looked low to me." Frowning, he stood and unlocked the door.

Curiously, Blair watched as the older man walked to the driver's side of the truck and got in. He watched his partner in silence as Jim pulled out of the parking spot, turned at the corner, and pulled in to the curb.

"There was a guy on the fire escape outside your window. I thought I caught a glimpse of him when we were walking out and made sure when I knelt by the truck. Call in a burglary in progress,” Jim ordered as he quietly opened the door. “Then get to the hospital. I'll catch up with you."

"Jim!" Blair protested.

Jim quietly closed the door. "You need to get there and find out what's going on."

"You be careful!" Blair hissed as he slid across the bench seat to sit behind the wheel. He was dialing the phone even as Jim faded into the darkness.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Gun in hand, Jim stealthily crept up the stairs to the third floor. He stopped next to his front door and extended his hearing. _'Good. Still in Blair's room.'_

Jim quietly unlocked the door and entered the loft. Using all his Ranger training, he silently moved across the floor to the closed door of Blair's room. _'One person...standing next to the bed...he's moving clothing around...looking through Naomi's suitcase?'_

Taking a deep breath, Jim flung the door open. "Cascade PD! Freeze!"

The figure in black didn't hesitate. He jumped onto the bed, heading for the open window to the fire escape.

Jim jumped after the figure, catching him and sending them both crashing to the floor between the bed and window. "I said freeze!" Jim yelled. He put the muzzle of his gun to the side of the man's head. "Hands over your head!"

The man beneath Jim hesitated, then slowly obeyed.

"Good," Jim grunted. He could hear sirens in the distance. "You have the right to remain silent."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Simon! Where's Mom?"

Simon reached out and put both hands on Blair's shoulders to calm him down. "The doctors are still evaluating her. They'll be out as soon as they know something."

Blair's eyes darted all around Simon. "Where's Jim’s dad?"

"Let's go over here and sit down. I'll tell you what I know." Simon walked the younger man over to a corner of the waiting room. "First, tell me what William Ellison & Naomi Sandburg were doing together?" He forced a smile.

Blair took a deep breath, then jumped to his feet. "Oh, God, Simon! Jim saw somebody on the fire escape when we were leaving! He had me call it in!"

Simon held up his hands. "Sandburg! Sit!" When Blair stared at him in shock, he gently pulled at Blair's arms. "Sit down. Let me find out what's going on."

Blair sat next to Simon and rubbed both hands on his thighs. He turned to look at every doctor and nurse who entered the emergency room, twisting back and forth on the hard plastic chair.

Finally, Simon closed his cell phone. "Jim's okay. They've got the intruder in custody. Rafe and Henri rolled on the call, and they're bringing Jim down here. Now, what about Naomi and Jim’s father?"

"Oh. Turns out they know each other. Mom's been involved in the International Children’s Foundation. It seems the Mayor asked William to give it a once over to see if it was something he could use here, I guess." He started to smile. "The first Jim and I knew about it was when William showed up at the loft to pick up Mom for a reception tonight." He took a deep breath and started into Simon's dark eyes. "Please, Simon...what happened?"

Simon settled back into his chair. "There was an anonymous 911 call that a woman had been heard screaming in the parking garage of the Cascade Hilton. When officers arrived, they found Naomi and William lying on the pavement. Both were unconscious." Simon sighed. "Naomi had suffered a serious head wound. You know what those are like...they bleed so much that they look worse than they actually are."

"And William?" Blair whispered.

"I understand he had partially regained consciousness by the time they got him here," Simon answered. "Blair, you need to know that the detectives on the case think that William may have attacked Naomi."

"That's ridiculous!" Blair yelled as he got to his feet.

Simon also jumped to his feet. "Calm down!" he hissed. "Look, we both know that's not what happened. But Naomi took a beating. They removed skin from under her nails. And Ellison's face is scratched all to hell." He grimaced. "And nothing was stolen. Not Ellison's wallet...not the car...not Naomi's jewelry."

"Oh, geez, Simon, this can't be happening." Blair sat down and covered his face. "What am I going to tell Jim?"

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

William sighed as he stared up at the ceiling then at the detective standing next to his bed. "I've told you everything I remember."

"I guess I still don't understand why you walked into that parking garage." Detective Allen Fritz shook his head. "After all, the Hilton has a valet service."

"And had only allotted three valets for over 250 guests," William snapped. "I retrieved my keys so we could leave."

"Why didn't you leave Ms. Sandburg at the entrance? Why take her into the parking garage?"

"Because from the parking garage, we could go directly to the club where I had reservations!" William snarled. "Is there a point to this repeated recitation?"

Fritz nodded. "Your face is heavily scratched...and Ms. Sandburg's nails have skin underneath them. So here's what I think happened. She didn't want to go to the club. There was an argument. You attacked her. She defended herself. There was a struggle and you beat her. In a last effort to defend herself, she managed to shove you down and you hit your head" The detective smiled. "And when we get the DNA results from the skin under Ms. Sandburg's nails, I'm willing to bet it matches your DNA, Mr. Ellison."

William stared at the detective in shock. "You're out of your mind," he finally replied. "Whoever attacked Naomi is out there, and you're doing nothing to find that person!" When Fritz smirked, William growled. "I've said all I intend to say. If you want to talk with me again, it’ll be through my attorney, Michael Hamm."

"If that's how you want to play this, that's fine with me." Fritz walked to the door, then turned around. "Just don't think that your son's cozy spot in Major Crimes is going to cut any slack with me."

Both men looked up as the door opened. “Excuse me,” a doctor apologized. “But you’ll have to leave, Detective. We’re preparing to move the patient to a room upstairs.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Jim! Over here!"

Both Blair and Simon stood as Jim walked towards them, followed by Henri and Rafe.

"What happened, Jim?" Simon quickly asked.

"Masked burglar in through the fire escape," Jim crisply answered. "He was going through Naomi's suitcase."

"Why would someone do that?" Blair looked from Jim to Simon.

"Good question, Chief." Jim stared at Simon.

"Over here." Simon led the others back to the corner where he and Blair had been sitting. He quickly repeated what he had told Blair. "Right now, Detective Fritz from Robbery is interviewing your father."

"Interviewing or questioning?" Jim demanded.

"I think, in your father's best interest, that you need to call his attorney," Simon quietly advised. He nodded towards a bank of phones down the corridor. 

"C'mon, I'll go with you." Blair tugged on Jim's arm. "I just can't sit here and do nothing."

Henri leaned back in his seat and grimaced. "Am I the only one who thinks there's something hinky about the break-in at the loft?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed. "Maybe the burglar was looking through Naomi's suitcase because it was handy. You know...the first thing he saw." He sighed at the look from his partner. "It's possible."

Henri snorted. "I'm more concerned that Fritz is handling this investigation and he’ll wind up handling the break-in as well."

Simon gave Henri a sharp look. "Are you implying something, Detective?"

Henri hesitated then shrugged. "I don't guess it's any secret that Fritz thinks he's the hottest investigator since Sherlock Holmes. Man thinks he's wasted in Robbery."

Rafe idly watched as a well-dressed man and woman entered the ER. The two spoke for a few seconds, then the woman waited while the man walked over to the admittance desk. _'Nice suit.'_

"Speaking of the devil," Henri grunted.

Simon stood as Fritz walked towards them.

Rafe noticed the well-dressed man at the admittance desk look in their direction then back at the woman waiting by the door.

"We should have the DNA results back by the time Ms. Sandburg regains consciousness and gives us a statement. And if she’s not, I think the DNA results will let me close this case." Fritz smiled at Simon's glower. "I don't think I need to point out that it wouldn't look good with IA if Detective Ellison or Major Crimes interferes in my investigation."

"What investigation, Detective?" Simon demanded. "So far, I haven't seen one tiny scrap of evidence against Mr. Ellison. Certainly nothing that would convince me to prevent a caring son from visiting his injured father."

"Now look here..." Fritz began.

"By the way, did you know that someone broke into Detective Ellison's residence and was caught going through Ms. Sandburg's suitcase?" Simon lightly poked Fritz on the shoulder with one forefinger. "How does **that** fit into your theory, Detective?"

Henri snickered when Fritz angrily stomped away.

Simon sighed when his cell phone rang. "Banks. **What?!** How did **that** happen?"

Rafe nudged his partner in the ribs when he saw the well-dressed couple walking towards them.

"Start making calls about this! I don't care who you have to wake up!" Simon closed the phone and glared at the two detectives. "The Feds waltzed in and took the burglar! Claimed it was in the interest of National Security!"

"Damn, what are Ellison and Hairboy into now?" Henri muttered.

"Perhaps I can answer that, Captain Banks."

The three men looked at the well-dressed couple. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather wallet. "My name is Geoffrey St. Cyr and this is my partner and wife, Grace. We're with British Intelligence."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Thanks, Michael. I appreciate you coming. Yeah, I’ll see you here.” With a sigh, Jim replaced the phone receiver. “That man is worth his weight in gold.”

“Tell me about it,” Blair wryly agreed. “Is he coming right down?”

“Just as soon as he can get dressed,” Jim nodded. He rubbed his forehead. “I hate that Dad’s talking with Fritz because Fritz is such an idiot, but hopefully he’ll be able to provide a lead on who attacked them.”

“Have you tried to listen?” Blair quietly asked after looking around to be sure they were alone.

Reluctantly, Jim nodded. “Every time I try to extend them, they cut out on me then spike,” he admitted.

Blair frowned. “We’ve been without proper sleep for a couple of days, then all this trauma. I’m not surprised.” He patted Jim on the arm. “We’ll work on it when we get the time. Until then, just keep the dials set at normal.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

The young man wearing a white hospital coat stopped in front of closed door to ER room #7 and flipped open the clipboard. He tapped his pen against the paper as he cautiously glanced from left to right. Finding that no one was paying him any attention, he closed the clipboard and gently opened the door.

The lights in the room had been dimmed to the point the entire room lay in shadows. The only illumination in the room came from a very dim light over the patient's bed.

The man frowned, silently wondering why the room was so dark. Then he shrugged. The dim light in the room would make his work much easier.

Quietly, he approached the bed and studied the unconscious woman. He reached for the IV line and pulled out a hypodermic. "Nothing personal," he murmured. "It's just business."

"I agree."

The assassin masquerading as an intern stiffened at the whispered words behind him. Before he could move, he felt strong arms grab his head. He felt a quick jerking motion, then slumped lifelessly to the floor.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“I think I’ll wait until we know something before I call Steven.” Jim hung up the telephone receiver before making the call.

"I am sorry. Am I intruding?"

"Father Sergei!" Blair smiled in surprise as he turned around. "What are you doing here?"

"I am...was seeing one of our elderly members who is rather ill." The Russian priest paused to take a deep breath, then forced himself to raise his eyes to meet Blair's. "I stayed until she...went to sleep." He silently nodded at Jim, then looked away. "I am trying to...I am trying not to stay hidden within the Church." His rasping voice trailed off almost in apology.

"Our parents are here. Jim's dad. My mom," Blair explained.

"I hope it is...nothing serious," Sergei offered. "May I be of assis...help?"

"Thank you, Father," Jim quietly answered. "I'm sure they would appreciate a visit later."

Sergei nodded. "I will...pray for them. And you."

"Code Blue to Room 7. Code Blue to Room 7."

"Mom!" Blair turned and ran down the hallway, closely followed by Jim.

They found a crowd in the hallway outside of Naomi's room. 

"Let me in!" Blair shouted.

"Sandburg! It's not Naomi! She's fine!" Simon grabbed Blair by the arm to slow him down.

Hearing Simon's words, Jim wrapped his arms around his partner's shoulders and held him. "What's going on, Simon?"

"A nurse went in to check on Naomi. She found the lights were dimmed as low as possible and a body on the floor."

"Move aside!"

The crowd quickly obeyed as a gurney was rushed out of Naomi's room and into the room next to hers. Jim noticed a well-dressed man who had been standing with Rafe and Henri quickly follow. After a few seconds, Rafe also followed.

Blair wiggled free from Jim's grasp and darted into his mother's room. He sighed in relief as he saw a nurse checking the IV line.

"She seems to be fine," the nurse assured him with a smile. "There's no change in her condition which, in this case, is a good thing."

Blair ran his hands through his hair and nodded. "Thank you." He turned around to glare at Simon. "Who was **that** guy?"

"We'll find out," Simon assured him. "That's not all we're going to find out either." He looked around. "Where's St. Cyr?"

"Who?" Jim's eyes narrowed, his attention diverted from where Blair stood next to his mother's bed.

"Right here, Captain. My partner is notifying our American counterparts of this development." Geoffrey stepped into the room, with Rafe at his shoulder. "It appears the man found on the floor had a hypodermic in his possession."

"I've got it in an evidence bag and called forensics," Rafe assured Simon.

"I strongly suggest we move Ms. Sandburg to a more secure location," Geoffrey advised. "Mr. Ellison as well."

“I can have uniforms here within fifteen minutes,” Simon growled as he pulled out his cell phone.

“The fewer people involved the better,” Geoffrey quickly warned.

"I'll cover your dad's room," Henri offered. “Rafe can guard Blair’s mom.”

Jim nodded in silent thanks as the other detectives left the room.

Geoffrey impatiently sighed, but Simon’s sharp look silenced him. 

“That’s the best you get,” Simon warned. “No one’s moving them until it’s safe to move them **and** until we completely understand what’s going on. Is that clear?”

Geoffrey hesitated, then nodded. "I'll inform my partner."

"St. Cyr!" Simon barked. "I want a full and complete explanation as soon as we have things settled here."

"Of course," Geoffrey politely nodded. "In view of the circumstances, perhaps you could prevail upon the authorities here in the hospital to provide a suitable conference room?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the room.

"Who is he?" Jim asked. “That name’s familiar.”

"British Intelligence," Simon grunted. “I’ll let the doctors know we’re to be notified of any change in Naomi or William’s conditions.” He glanced at the unconscious woman in the bed then left without another word.

"Jim, I don't want to leave Mom," Blair said from where he stood, stroking his mother's wrist with gentle fingers. "I don't want her to wake up alone." He looked up when Jim walked to stand next to him. "But...I need to be with you, too. And what is some guy from British Intelligence doing here?"

"You stay with..."

"I would be...glad to stay with your...mother."

Both men looked up in surprise, seeing Father Sergei standing in the open doorway.

"That's very kind of you, Father," Blair admitted. "I hate to impose."

"It is not an...it is no trouble." Sergei hesitantly looked at Blair, then at Naomi. "Unless you think...she would be...frightened to see me."

"No, she wouldn't." Blair looked at Jim who shrugged. "Thank you, Father. Jim, can you get him a chair?"

"Sure, Chief." Jim squeezed Blair's arm and went outside the room. Barely a minute later, he returned gently sitting the chair next to Naomi's bed.

"Father, I can't thank you enough for this," Blair enthusiastically smiled.

The priest tried to smile, then concentrated on sitting down. "It is...no trouble."

Simon stepped into the room. “Jim, your father’s being moved to a room upstairs. Brown is going with him.” He curiously stared at the priest.

"Simon, this is Father Sergei Markov. He’s a friend," Blair explained. “Father, this is Captain Simon Banks.”

Sergei hesitantly looked at Simon then back at the floor. “Captain,” he murmured.

"I'm going to see about our mystery man and commandeer a conference room,” Simon advised.

"We'll be here, sir," Jim nodded. "What about our overseas guest?"

"I'll round him and his partner up myself," Simon promised.

Father Sergei settled more comfortably in his chair and studied the unconscious woman in the bed. _'Such a pretty lady. I imagine the angels enjoy watching over you.'_ He fingered the simple cross hanging on a chain from around his neck. _'All types of angels.'_

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Well, our unknown assassin has been declared dead. Rafe took fingerprints before going to stand guard at Naomi’s room since I’m sure the Feds will snatch him away from us as well.” Disgruntled, Simon looked up from the conference table with a growl to see the British agent softly closing the door of the small conference room behind him. "Where's your partner, St. Cyr?"

"Speaking with our superiors in London regarding the latest developments," Geoffrey smoothly replied. He looked at the others then back at Simon. "At the risk of sounding rude, is it necessary that everyone here be involved?"

"Yes," Simon brusquely answered. He stared at Geoffrey in silent challenge.

The British agent slowly smiled. "We thought so. Which is why my partner's conversation will no doubt take more than a few minutes." He sat down with a sigh.  
"Sometimes, it's difficult to convince someone sitting in an office half a world away about how quickly situations change in the field. But I don't believe there will be any problems with Detectives Brown and Rafe being a part of this investigation."

Simon's dark eyes narrowed.

"However, because of their personal connection with the victims, should Detective Ellison or Mr. Sandburg be involved?"

"You investigated us?" Simon's voice angrily rumbled.

"Of course," Geoffrey nodded. "If this operation had gone smoothly, there would have been no reason for you to know anything about this. But in case the operation did not go smoothly, we needed to know who we would be dealing with. And Major Crimes seemed the most likely department to be involved."

"Suppose you tell us just what this operation is," Simon angrily suggested.

Geoffrey glanced at Jim and Blair. "First of all, Naomi Sandburg and William Ellison have been under surveillance for some time."

"What? You...you...you poor excuse for a James Bond wannabe!" Blair angrily jumped to his feet.

Jim reached out and pushed the younger man back down. "Take it easy, Sandburg. Let him finish before you start putting together the protest signs."

Blair irritably pulled free from his partner's grasp. "He was probably spying on your father, too, you know!"

Jim lazily leaned back in his chair and shifted his gaze to Geoffrey. "I know," he calmly acknowledged.

”Naomi Sandburg has become heavily involved in the International Children's Foundation," Geoffrey explained.

"Which is a perfectly legal charity attempting to bring relief to children of the world who find themselves, through no fault of their own I might add, in the middle of war zones and famine!" Blair angrily interrupted. "I suppose you think they're spying or something!"

"Or something," Geoffrey nodded.

Jim's left hand quickly came down on Blair's right arm. "Is there some specific reason that you're trying to aggravate my partner to the point that he's losing his temper?"

"My apologies. We poor excuses for James Bond wannabes tend to react badly at times," Geoffrey calmly replied.

Simon's fist came down hard on the table, getting everyone's attention. "This is not grade school! Sandburg, I know you're upset about your mother, but you're not going to find out anything by pissing off the man who has the information you want!" He glared at Geoffrey. "And I would hope you would have more professionalism than to bait a man under these circumstances!"

"Touche, Captain." Geoffrey nodded. "My apologies, Mr. Sandburg." Deciding to accept Blair's grunt as an apology in return, he continued. "Every international charity or organization is scrutinized by various law enforcement and intelligence organizations. Their very ease of moving across international borders make them likely targets for infiltration by organized crime or terrorist organizations of one form or another. Quite  
often, individuals in the field or even in the upper management levels of these charities or organizations are unaware of this infiltration. Unfortunately, when brought to light, these affiliations often destroy the reputation of very worthy groups."

"Where does Naomi and William Ellison come into this?" Simon asked.

"Ms. Sandburg has been most successful with raising funds and social awareness of the International Children's Foundation," Geoffrey explained. "Because the Foundation was under surveillance, we began noticing that the same individuals were showing up in various cities. She was one of them. During our investigation, we became certain that while Ms. Sandburg herself was uninvolved in any criminal activities, she was being used as a courier."

Looking at Jim, he finished. "Through his business contacts, When Mr. Ellison was able to introduce Ms. Sandburg to more powerful individuals. Some of them are known to be either sympathetic or directly involved with terrorist organizations."

“If you had cleared both of them of being involved…” Simon began.

"You bastard! You were using my mother as bait!" Blair angrily jumped to his feet. “My Mom!”

"Had we informed Ms. Sandburg of our suspicions, would she have cooperated with us?" Geoffrey coldly demanded.

Jim once again pulled at Blair's arm. "You know Naomi, Chief. She probably would have called a press conference and accused the authorities of harassment."

Blair snorted but sat down.

"Ms. Sandburg's involvement was as an involuntary courier. Mr. Ellison wasn't even involved to that extent," Geoffrey continued. "At various cities, Ms. Sandburg's hotel room would be entered and a microdot would be placed within her cosmetic bag. At her next stop, the microdot would be removed or replaced. And so on and so forth."

"You were tracing the links," Jim guessed.

"And with those links we were able to tie various groups and individuals together," Geoffrey nodded. "Since Cascade was the last stop on this particular fund raising tour, Ms. Sandburg's involvement would have been over."

"Until the next time," Blair growled.

"Probably not," Geoffrey disagreed. "Ever since we realized what an opportunity had been presented to us, there has been high-level cooperation between intelligence organizations to make a simultaneous world-wide raid."

"Which I've screwed up by catching the guy going through Naomi's suitcase," Jim sighed.

Geoffrey shrugged. "Who's to say? By moving sooner than we anticipated, perhaps we'll catch someone we might have missed. Perhaps by moving sooner than anticipated, perhaps we will obtain evidence and information that might have been destroyed."

"But why attack Ms. Sandburg?" Simon frowned. "That happened before the break-in."

"Maybe it was to get us out of the loft," Blair guessed. "Maybe the fact that Naomi was staying with us instead of at a hotel or with..." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that probably threw them off."

"Then why attack her here?" Simon gently asked.

Blair shook his head. "I don't know," he muttered.

"That interests me as well, Captain," Geoffrey admitted. "As does the fact that someone interrupted and killed the assassin." He glanced at Jim. "Why was your father involved with the Foundation? Simply because of Ms. Sandburg?"

"All I know is that the Mayor asked Dad to check out the Foundation," Jim shrugged. "Knowing Dad, that would mean a hands on review to see where the money was coming from, who was using it, how the resources were being used...stuff like that."

"Jim, your dad's a successful businessman," Blair pointed out. "Maybe he found something he shouldn't have."

Geoffrey rubbed his jaw. "It's obvious that the intent of the original attack was to implicate Mr. Ellison as the attacker."

"And when our burglar was caught, somebody panicked," Simon continued.

"And someone, fortunately, saved Ms. Sandburg," Geoffrey finished. "Possibly someone from an intelligence service." He half-smiled. "It's a wonder we haven’t tripped over one another before this."

"Do you think you'll be able to get anything from the burglar?" Jim asked.

Geoffrey casually adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. "I believe so, Detective. After all, we have fewer restrictions regarding our actions than the local police." He was silently amused to watch Jim trying to calm both Blair and Simon at the same time. Then he got to his feet when he heard a light tapping on the door.

Opening the door, he saw Grace standing there.

"Edward approved bringing them into the operation," she quietly advised.

"That's good because I've already done so," Geoffrey grunted. Hesitating, he put a hand on Grace's arm. "Things are very tense. I think perhaps you should go back to our room and coordinate activities from there." He didn't see Jim suddenly get to his feet and start towards the door.

"Jim?" Blair glanced at Simon in confusion, then followed his partner.

Geoffrey saw Grace's blue eyes widen as she looked past him. Silently cursing, Geoffrey turned to face Jim and protect his wife.

"Now I remember where I heard the same St. Cyr before," Jim coldly spoke.

"What's going on?" Simon demanded as saw Blair put a hand on Jim's arm. Joining his men, he saw Jim staring at Geoffrey's partner.

"Grace St. Cyr. Is that your legal name now or just the one you use when it's convenient? I seem to remember the name of Whitlock."

"Legally, it's Grace St. Cyr." Grace finally answered. "Whitlock..."

"Whitlock was a name I used when I was in Cascade years ago," Geoffrey interrupted with narrowed eyes. "I told Grace that my legal name was St. Cyr only once during that time."

"I have good ears." Jim never took his eyes away from Grace. "Does Dad know you're here?"

 _’Grace? Dad?’_ Blair’s blue eyes widened. "Oh, my God," his murmured.

"No, he doesn't," Grace answered.

"What's going on here?" Simon angrily demanded. "Jim, do you know this woman? St. Cyr's partner?"

"Partner?" Jim harshly laughed. "Oh, it all makes sense now!"

"Jim..." Grace hesitated then stepped around Geoffrey, a hand out to touch his arm.

Jim automatically backed away and held up his hands in denial. "Don't," he coldly warned.

Geoffrey stood beside his wife, his green eyes silently warning Jim.

Blair finally spoke. "You're...I mean, you **were** Grace Ellison."

Simon stared at the woman in shock.

"Yes," Grace admitted. She stared at Blair for a moment, then back at her son. "I'm Jim's mother."

"I'm going to check on Dad. Simon, I'm sure he'll answer any questions you have. Besides, his attorney should be here by now." Jim turned to Blair. "Why don't you go sit with your mom, Chief? Father Sergei looked pretty wiped out."

Both Blair and Simon stared at him in surprise.

"You sure, man? 'Cause I can go with you," Blair offered.

Jim smiled at the younger man. "I'm sure, Sandburg. As soon as I talk with Dad, I'll join you."

"I'd like to ask Mr. Ellison a few questions myself," Geoffrey spoke. "I'm sure the hospital won't mind if my partner uses this room as a command center."

Jim's narrowed blue eyes studied the British agent. "All things considered, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Uh...before we all go drawing lines in the sand, maybe we should all be on the same page?" Blair quietly suggested.

"How's this for the same page, Darwin? This is the guy my mother deserted her husband and children for!"

Blair silently stared at Jim. "Ok. Just checking."

Simon saw the silent anger in Geoffrey's eyes and audibly sighed. "Mrs. St. Cyr, I'll notify the hospital authorities that we're still using this room. Perhaps you can find out if the intruder at Jim and Blair's apartment has decided to talk." He briskly turned to Geoffrey. "You can come with us to interview Jim's father, but you'll stay anonymous. The man's been attacked, and we're not throwing this mess into his lap right now." He turned to Jim. " **You** will keep a rein on your temper, Ellison. That's an order!"

"Yes, sir." Jim respectfully nodded, shoulders straight and hands clasped behind his back.

"Sandburg!"

"Sir!" Blair grinned.

"Get to your mother's room and keep her company," Simon growled. "If she comes to, call me on my cell." He glared at everyone in the room. "Give me any grief, and I'll throw all of you into a cell; and you can fight it out there."

Simon wasn't reassured when both Jim and Geoffrey slowly smiled at each other.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Hey, Sandburg. How’s it going?”

Blair smiled at Rafe’s greeting. “Like I’ve just tap danced in the lion’s den,” he admitted. “Any problems here?”

Rafe shook his head. “A team of doctors went in about twenty minutes ago with a portable x-ray and poked and prodded a little. They seemed to think she might come to in a couple of hours.” He shrugged. “Other than that, no one’s been inside except for the priest.”

Blair put a hand on the detective’s arm. “I can’t thank you enough, man. You and Henri. You guys should’ve been off duty hours ago.”

Rafe chuckled. “Don’t worry. There’ll be a time that I need a favor…like one of your romantic gourmet dinners for two.”

“Why, Rafe! I had no idea.” Blair batted his eyelashes.

“Not you, you goofball!” Rafe snickered. “I’m gonna hold that favor in reserve for a special occasion with a special lady.”

“You’ve got it,” Blair softly promised.

“By the way, I called Megan and Joel. They’ll be relieving us about dawn,” Rafe advised. “So somebody will be on guard out here. And go with Naomi when they move her upstairs or take her for any tests.”

Blair quickly blinked back tears. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“C’mon, Sandburg. Wipe your eyes and go see your mom.”

Blair nodded and obeyed. “Yeah, she likes to see smiles.” As he opened the door, Rafe chuckled.

“Hey, is it true? Your mom and Ellison’s dad?”

Blair rewarded his friend with an exaggerated shiver. As he gently closed the door behind him, he saw Father Sergei slowly raise his eyes. For a few seconds, the eyes of the priest narrowed and hardened. Then Sergei looked back at Naomi.

“She has rested com…well,” he gently spoke. Shaking his head, he continued, “Such violence committed on a gentle soul.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Father, for staying with you,” Blair quietly spoke. “But you must be exhausted.”

The priest slowly nodded and struggled to his feet. Blair moved to help him but was resolutely waved away. “I will return…in the afternoon.” He tried to smile then turned away. “She will awaken soon. The angel has promised.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I will take one of the taxis at the front…of the hospital.”

“I can’t let you…” Blair began.

“No,” Sergei firmly interrupted. “I must learn to…use all that is available to me.” He fingered the cross hanging from his neck. “It would be too…easy to hide.”

“You’re a very brave man, Father,” Blair smiled. “I admire you very much.”

“Do not admire…man,” Sergei warned. “Man is frail…given to temptation.”

“I can admire a man who has overcome adversity,” Blair gently argued.

Sergei uncomfortably shrugged. “If you permit, I will see your mother later.”

“She would be honored. And so would I. You don’t need my permission,” Blair assured him.

The priest respectfully bowed his head and shuffled towards the door.

Blair slowly sat in the chair next to the bed and took his mother’s hand. “C’mon, Mom. Wake up for me.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Banks! What sort of crap are you pulling?! Your man here won't let me in to question Ellison!"

Simon looked at Henri who lazily shrugged. "As I've explained, Mr. Ellison is conferring with his attorney. As such, they require privacy. I informed Mr. Ellison's attorney that Detective Fritz wanted to speak with his client. As soon as they have finished their conference, Mr. Ellison's attorney will advise us if his client will agree to be questioned." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the closed hospital room door.

Simon closed his eyes and decided that Brown had been hanging around Sandburg for too long.

"I hear my case will be yanked, Banks!" Fritz snapped. He glared at Jim. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

"Actually, no, I didn't," Simon answered. "It's become a Federal manner." He slowly smiled. "In fact, if you'd like to discuss it, I'm sure this gentleman here can give you whatever facts you need to know." He pointed at Geoffrey.

Despite himself, Geoffrey smiled. He looked at Fritz and tilted his head to one side. "I'm so sorry. Exactly who are you?"

"I'm Detective Fritz of the Cascade Police Dept., and I'm investigating the assault on Naomi Sandburg!" Fritz angrily answered. "I have every reason to believe she was attacked in the Cascade Hilton parking garage by William Ellison."

Geoffrey smiled at Simon. "My sincere condolences, Captain Banks, if this is the mentality of your fellow officers."

"Now listen here..."

"No! You will listen to me!" Geoffrey coldly snapped. "I will say this only once, and I will attempt to use the smallest words possible so you do not misunderstand. This case, including both attacks on Naomi Sandburg, the assault upon William Ellison, and the breaking and entering of Detective Ellison's home are Federal matters with international concerns. Any interference and you will find yourself trapped in a legal morass that will  
last until your grandchildren are tottering around on canes!" He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "And if you persist in irritating me any further, I will personally see that you disappear into the dark night only to reappear walking a beat in Nome, Alaska."

Stepping back, he smiled and gently patted Fritz on the shoulder. "Now, run along, like a good chap. Fill out whatever paperwork you need to indicate these matters have been turned over to the Federal authorities."

Fritz looked at Simon who shrugged. "You heard him. It's now a Federal matter."

"What...both attacks on Naomi Sandburg? What other attack was there? I'm sure she clawed Ellison's face to defend herself from him!"

Geoffrey sighed. "No. She didn't." He held up his hand. "Not another word, old boy. You truly don't want to be involved in this."

Fritz glared again at Simon then angrily walked away.

Geoffrey watched, shaking his head. _'Yanks...what a strange bunch.'_

They turned as the door behind Henri opened.

"Hello, Jim. Captain Banks."

"Thanks for coming down, Michael," Jim smiled. "We need to ask Dad some questions."

Michael held the door open, curiously glancing at Geoffrey who followed Jim and Simon into the room.

"Hey, Dad. You must be better if they let you out of the ER," Jim grinned, fussing with the blanket over his father's reclining body.

"I've had worse headaches," William snorted. "What about Naomi?"

"She's still in ER but holding her own," Jim assured him. "Blair's with her right now."

"I'm Michael Hamm, Mr. Ellison’s attorney. And you are?"

Simon turned to see Michael staring at Geoffrey. "He's with British Intelligence and here as a courtesy." 

"What can you tell us, Dad?"

"We were leaving the reception," William slowly explained after Michael nodded his approval. "I had reservations for us at Pierre's. There were only three valets so I decided we'd walk to the parking garage for the car."

He frowned and cleared his throat. "The heel of Naomi's shoe was loose, and I'm sure it was uncomfortable. She suggested waiting, but I was impatient." He eyed Jim a bit uncomfortably. "I'm sure you and Blair have figured out that we've been seeing each other."

"We'll talk about that later," Jim grinned.

William cleared his throat again. "We got to the parking garage which was fairly deserted on the upper level. We were almost to my car when I heard someone running towards us. I turned in time to see a man with a stocking cap over his face just behind him. I think Naomi screamed. But he sprayed me in the face with something. I staggered and something or someone hit me...perhaps the attacker. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the ER."

"Is my client facing any charges?" Michael asked.

"I don't think so," Simon admitted. "I'm sure Naomi can corroborate his story when she wakes up."

Geoffrey excused himself out of the room when his cell phone rang.

 _‘He looks a little familiar. Where have I seen him before?’_ William smiled as Jim adjusted the blanket around him. "Why is British Intelligence here?" 

"I'll tell you later, Dad," Jim promised, after glancing at Simon.

"Jim, if I need to protect William's interests..." Michael began.

"That won't be necessary," Simon assured him. "At least in that regard. You might still get a visit from Detective Fritz."

"Already have," William sighed.

 **"What?"** Michael angrily glared at his client. "And you spoke with him?"

"I had nothing to hide, Michael," William frowned. "But when he began to accuse me of attacking Naomi, I told him that he needed to contact you if he wanted to speak with me again." 

"It's a good thing Jim called me when he did," Michael grumbled. "Don't ever do that  
again, William."

Jim's eyes twinkled when William grunted in return.

"Dad, what can you tell us about the International Children's Foundation?"

"I was asked by the Mayor to look into the Foundation to see how legitimate it is. For example, how much of the money taken in is actually spent on what it's supposed to be spent on," William explained. "The Mayor had heard excellent reports on the Foundation and wanted to approach them to work in Cascade in connection with other charities. With Cascade's growing immigrant population, a lot of families either don't speak English well enough to take advantage of social programs or are reluctant to deal with governmental agencies." He shrugged. "I explained what I was looking for, and they opened their books completely to me. I couldn't find anything wrong."

"Took you how long to figure that out?" Jim teased.

William grunted. "We'll talk about my personal relationship with Naomi later."

Simon looked at Geoffrey who nodded once and left the room.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Yes?" Geoffrey spoke into the cell phone as he walked down the hallway away from William's room. He smiled when he heard Grace's calm voice and ignored the scowl Henri threw in his direction.

"The man who attempted to murder Ms. Sandburg has been identified as Raoul Michel Bouchier," Grace reported. "French Intelligence will be forwarding what they have on him."

"And the man Ellison caught?"

"He's been identified by the FBI as John Felix Wallace," Grace answered. "He's agreed to cooperate and arrangements to transfer him to FBI Headquarters in Washington are being worked out even as we speak."

Geoffrey rubbed his chin. "So they think he can provide something worth all this effort?"

"They've convinced Edward of that," Grace chuckled.

"Well, if our esteemed supervisor believes it, who are we to question that decision?" Geoffrey dryly quipped. "I take it, then, that our mission here is completed?"

"From what Edward has said, yes, although he would like us to stay in Cascade until Wallace has been flown out. Just in case something goes wrong."

"Well, one more day won't hurt, I suppose," Geoffrey admitted. "Fortunately, this means  
we'll be able to go to Paris for our anniversary next week. Why don't you see if you can get our travel arrangements changed? We can fly to Venice now and spend some time there before going on to Paris."

"I think...I'd rather go home first," Grace hesitantly decided.

"Of course, darling. Whatever you wish." Geoffrey's green eyes narrowed as he saw the door to William's room open. "Make sure the FBI knows to inform Detective Fritz of the Cascade PD that this case is hands off to him. The little bugger is starting to become a nuisance."

"I'll talk to them right now."

"Do you want me to send your son down to you?" Geoffrey lowered his voice. He waited several seconds for an answer.

"Only if he wants to see me."

"As you wish, my dear. I'll see you shortly." Geoffrey closed his cell phone and calmly walked to where Simon and Jim stood talking with Henri. He inwardly smiled when all three detectives turned to look at him with almost the same scowl on their faces.

"The man who broke into your residence has decided to cooperate with Federal authorities," Geoffrey explained. "He'll be flown to FBI Headquarters later today. When that occurs, my partner and I will also leave. This will complete our mission."

"What about Naomi and my Dad? How much of this is going to come back to bite them in the ass?" Jim demanded.

"I'm sure there will be some investigation into the Foundation based on what information is received as a result of questioning our sources," Geoffrey smoothly replied. "However, it's clear that neither your father nor Ms. Sandburg are involved in anything illegal. I doubt the Foundation will be inconvenienced very much. It’s in everyone’s best interest to be as discreet as possible."

Simon glanced at Henri who smiled. "Rafe talked with Megan and Joel. They'll relieve us in a few hours."

Simon nodded. "I figure Mr. Ellison will be released later today so that will just leave Naomi to be covered."

"I'm sure Sandburg and I can handle that, sir," Jim offered.

Simon grunted. "I'm going down and see how she's doing. You coming, Jim?"

"I'd like a few moments of your time, Detective Ellison, if that's possible," Geoffrey quickly spoke.

"I can't imagine why," Jim coldly replied.

Henri's eyebrows rose, but he stared down at the floor.

"I can," Geoffrey replied. "In private, if you please."

Jim slowly nodded. "I'll catch up with you, Simon."

"See that you do," Simon ordered before reluctantly walking away.

Jim glanced at Henri. "Why don't you grab some coffee, H? I noticed a vending machine down the hall."

"Okay," Henri nodded. "Bring you back anything, Jim?" When the other detective shook his head, he casually sauntered away.

Geoffrey briefly smiled. "He's very good at deliberately ignoring someone, isn't he?"

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" Jim folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall.

"I think we both know I want to speak to you about Grace."

Jim stood silently until he realized that Geoffrey could wait just as long as he could. "What about her?" he finally asked.

"She would like to see you...talk with you. And your brother as well," Geoffrey answered. He leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring Jim's position.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Jim snorted. "Sure. Why not? She hasn't cared..."

"Stop right there!" Geoffrey angrily demanded. "Grace has never stopped caring about her children! Whether you wish to believe it or not, it's the truth! Even if you feel you don't owe her anything, then perhaps you owe it to yourself to talk with her and hear her side."

Without another word, Jim angrily walked away.

Geoffrey briefly closed his eyes. He glanced at his Rolex and mentally gave Henri three minutes to return.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"Well, this looks like good news."

Blair looked up to see Simon standing in the hallway. "Yeah, she opened her eyes a little bit. They said she's stabilized enough they can move her upstairs." He moved aside so the orderlies could roll his mother's gurney into the hallway.

Rafe walked to one side of the rolling bed, his dark eyes continually moving.

"It looks like this is almost over," Simon confided. "Hopefully, by the end of the day, everybody connected with this mess will have left town and things can get back to normal."

"How's Mr. Ellison?" Blair asked.

"Probably going to be released later today," Simon explained.

"Jim's with him?"

Simon hesitated. "He was talking with St. Cyr when I left William's room. He said he would catch up with us."

Blair suddenly stopped. "He's gone to see his mother," he whispered.

Rafe turned to stare back at them in surprise.

“Sandburg, you don’t know that,” Simon protested.

"Simon...I'll catch up with you. I gotta find Jim."

"Check the conference room," Simon advised. "That's where she was the last time I saw her." He shook his head as Blair disappeared around a corner.

"Mother?" Rafe asked.

Simon sighed. "Apparently Grace St. Cyr is Ellison's mother."

Rafe blew a long low whistle. "That means that pompous Brit is Jim's step-father?"

"If I were you, Rafe, I wouldn't put it that way to Jim," Simon warned.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Grace looked up as the conference door opened. Her eyes widened as Jim hesitated in the doorway then shoved his hands into his pants pockets and took a few steps forward. The two uneasily eyed one another, separated by more than the width of the room.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions." Grace absently twisted the elegant diamond ring on her left hand as she stood and walked to the end of the conference table.

Jim shrugged. "None where the answers would matter."

To her credit, Grace didn't flinch from the curt answer. Instead, she calmly met Jim's eyes. "Do you want to even try and understand?"

Jim slowly crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay. Make me understand. Make me understand why a woman walks out on her two young children." Despite himself, the bitterness slipped into his voice. "I remember Geoffrey, you know. Mr. Whitaker with the funny sounding voice." He was rewarded by the uneasiness on Grace's face. "All those trips to the zoo. You **used** Steven and me to cover meeting him!"

"You make it sound so sordid, Jim," Grace protested. "Those meetings were innocent!"

"Then why didn’t you meet him at home?" Jims scathingly pointed out. "Why didn't you introduce him to your **husband**?"

Grace's eyes narrowed. "Because I intended on leaving my husband for Geoffrey, that's why." She took a deep breath. "Is it necessary to make this even more difficult that it already is by asking such obvious questions, Jim?" When her son didn't answer, she irritably shook her head. "You don't know what it was like. Everything was changing around me, and I was expected to remain on the sidelines. I was to be the good little Suzy Homemaker. To be known just as **Mrs. William Ellison** instead of having my own identity!" She fixed her gaze firmly on Jim's face. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to hide who and what you are? To be told you have to fit into someone else's preconceived idea of what you should be? I knew I could be someone more than just a wife and mother!"

Jim was never so grateful as now for the control over his features that he'd mastered long ago. Leaning against the wall, he shrugged. "So you chose to dump your two children for…what? The life of an international espionage agent? A chance to play with James Bond?"

"I didn't **dump** my children," Grace angrily denied. "I wanted to remain a part of your lives! But William…"

"I remember overhearing a conversation when I was ten," Jim calmly interrupted. "Pops wanted you to take us while he went overseas…something about an emergency situation in one of the plants in the Mid-East." He coldly stared at his mother. "It wasn’t convenient for you to do it."

Grace's brow furrowed. "When you were ten? My God, Jim. Geoffrey and I were in the middle of an important operation. I couldn't endanger your lives! And I couldn't explain to William! If he'd known, he would never have allowed me to…"

"I guess that important operation lasted a long time, huh?" Jim curtly interrupted. "Because it was **never** convenient. Was it?"

"I wanted to do something important with my life!" Grace's voice rose. "Not to waste it on meaningless meetings at the Country Club!"

"I remember Eddie Parker's mother," Jim calmly recalled. "She spent every spare moment she had working in homeless shelters. Maggie Thornton's mother volunteered every day here at Cascade General Hospital. Jeremy McRurie's mother went back to school, got her degree in Sociology, and then worked with disadvantaged kids." He half-closed his eyes. "Seems to me they were doing something important with their lives without leaving their children half-a-world away."

"I suppose you include Naomi Sandburg in that group." Grace flushed at the jealous tone in her voice.

"Actually, I do," Jim admitted. "I may not agree with everything she stood for. Hell, I probably would've been on the other side most of the times. And I may not agree with the **way** she raised Blair, but she took care of **her** son. Blair never, for one moment, thought his mother didn't care about him."

"I cared, Jim." Grace hesitantly replied. "I never stopped caring. About either you or Steven."

"You had a funny way of showing it," Jim curtly cut her off. Pushing himself away from the wall, he angrily left the room never noticing the two men who had stopped in the hallway at the sound of their angry voices.

His green eyes angrily snapping, Geoffrey quickly entered the waiting room and took Grace in his arms. "Say the word, darling, and I'll thrash the whelp," he promised.

Grace half-laughed, half-sobbed. "Oh, Geoffrey." She ran a finger down his cheek. "Thank you, love. But…" She stopped as she looked past him to see Blair standing in the doorway.

"Stay away from Jim," Blair coldly warned.

"Don't throw idle threats in my direction," Geoffrey angrily warned. He gently removed Grace's warning hand from his arm.

"It's not an idle threat. Jim would put you in ICU…or the morgue," Blair replied. "You may think you're good at hand-to-hand combat…maybe you are. But Jim's been trained to kill when he fights." He shrugged. "Besides, if you go after Jim, I'll just have to pick something up and hit you over the head with it."

"I think we're all a little upset," Grace carefully spoke. "Perhaps it would be best if we don't say anything more. Before something gets said that someone can't forgive."

"Mrs. St. Cyr, where were you when Jim was lost in Peru?" Blair calmly asked.

"Excuse me?" Grace's eyes widened.

"Where were you when Jim was lost in Peru?" Blair repeated.

Geoffrey looked from Grace to Blair with narrowed eyes.

"At home. In England," Grace answered. "Why?"

Blair nodded to himself. "You were at home. William was at home. Steven was at home." Something angry flickered in his blue eyes. "And none of you tried to find out the truth."

"We were told Jim was dead," Geoffrey intervened.

"You were told Jim was lost and **presumed** dead," Blair corrected. "We both know there's a difference." He looked back at Grace. "Even with your contacts in the intelligence community, you didn't try to find out the truth, did you?" When Grace didn't answer, he raised his voice. **"DID YOU?"**

"No," Grace calmly answered. "I didn't. I thought he was dead."

"You see…that's the difference. You should have at least asked," Blair irritably replied.

"And you would have asked?" Geoffrey silkily asked.

"You bet your ass I would have," Blair quickly nodded. "Jim's my best friend, and I wouldn't have stopped until I knew the truth. One way or the other. Frankly, it astounds me that his own family didn't do **anything**."

"And this says what to you, Mr. Sandburg?" Geoffrey studied the younger man with calculating eyes.

Blair met Geoffrey's stare with one of his own. "It means if either if you do anything…and I do mean **anything** to hurt Jim in any way, you'll have me to deal with," he angrily hissed. Before either Grace or Geoffrey could reply, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, Blair barreled around the corner nearly running into this silent partner. Startled, he took a few steps backward. "Jim, you okay?"

The Sentinel stared at the younger man for a few seconds. "Thanks. For what you said back there." He indicated the waiting room around the corner with a jerk of his head. "If it means anything, Steven and Pops don’t have your suspicious nature when it comes to the information given out by the military-industrial complex." He smiled at Blair's snort. Wrapping an arm around his partner's shoulders, he gave Blair a gentle hug. "C'mon. Let's see if there's any decent coffee in the cafeteria."

To Blair’s surprise, the 24 hour cafeteria had fresh fruit salad. He filled two bowls while Jim got their coffee. By unspoken agreement, neither man spoke while eating. Not once did either man look towards the vending machines lining one wall of the cafeteria.

"You know, Sandburg, if you disappeared into the jungles of Borneo or wherever, I wouldn't stop either…until I found out the truth," Jim finally spoke as he pushed his empty bowl aside.

Blair lazily smiled and played with the half-empty cup in front of him. "I know, man." His blue eyes flickered over Jim's shoulder and grew colder. "Jim…"

"I know," Jim quietly acknowledged. "I can smell the cologne." He flashed a quick grin at his partner who chuckled under his breath.

Without invitation, Geoffrey sat in an empty chair at the corner of their table. "I think we need to talk."

"About?" Jim casually sipped his coffee.

"About your mother," Geoffrey tightly answered.

Blair knew it was only because of their close friendship that he saw the flicker in Jim's icy eyes. He uneasily shifted his chair. Jim's eyes softened for a moment when he saw Blair throw a warning look at Geoffrey.

"Look, I can…and will…work with you and your partner," Jim assured him. "But that's a professional association. Your wife…"

"Who is your mother," Geoffrey smoothly interrupted.

Jim stared at the Englishman for several seconds. "Yes. My mother who **chose** to leave her two children for whatever reasons she had at the time." He saw the dangerous glint in Geoffrey's green eyes. "I suggest we keep this on a professional level because, trust me, St. Cyr, you do **not** want me to put this on a personal level."

Geoffrey's emerald eyes flickered from one man to the other. "I fell in love with Grace from the moment I first saw her. Falling in love with her went against every bit of training that I’d received. I even broke my cover in the process. Since then I've seen how the choices she's made has affected her. I learned to live with not having her entire heart because she left a big part of it with her children. But I will not tolerate anyone treating Grace the way you did."

Jim angrily started to reply when Blair coldly interrupted him.

"Jim, would you mind going upstairs to see how Naomi's doing? Mr. St. Cyr and I have something to discuss."

Jim glanced at his partner. It was the ice in Blair’s voice and eyes that warned him that Sandburg-style mayhem was close to exploding. "Let it go, Sandburg."

Blair shook his head. "Can't. I warned him."

"I know you did, buddy," Jim half-smiled. "But there'll be paperwork like you've never seen if you put him in the hospital."

Blair didn't blink. "How much paperwork for putting him in the morgue?"

Jim chuckled. Taking his cup of coffee in one hand, he nudged Blair's arm with the other. "Forget him. We've got more important things to do."

Geoffrey calmly watched the by-play. Although Sandburg was surprising him, he knew Ellison to be the more dangerous man.

"You're lucky, St. Cyr," Jim lowered his voice. "There are far too many vending machines in here for you to be safe."

Geoffrey frowned as Blair burst into laughter.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" the young man demanded as he got to his feet.

"Nope," Jim admitted with a grin. "Actually, I think you should put it in your resume." He reached out and took Blair's arm. "C'mon, Chief. Let's get back upstairs." He glanced at Geoffrey. "Like I said. Keep it professional, and we won't have any problems." Tugging on Blair's arm, he led the younger man away.

Geoffrey leaned back in his chair. Idly rubbing his chin with his right forefinger, he sighed. The entire operation had gone to hell in a hand basket because of personal involvements. The slim Englishman shook his head and got to his feet. Operations should be kept simple and clean. And this one had turned out to be anything but simple and clean.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

William opened his eyes to see Jim quietly closing the door behind him. “I’m not asleep,” he muttered.

“You should be,” Jim pointed out.

“Maybe I could if someone would tell me what’s going on.” William studied his elder son who hesitated before sitting in the chair next to the bed. “Because I know something else is going on.” He paused. “Is it Naomi? Is she worse?”

“No!” Jim quickly shook his head. He clasped his hands together on his knees and leaned forward. “That British agent who was in here...his name is Geoffrey St. Cyr.” He watched as William’s eyes widened then closed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get him out of here. I couldn’t make him stay away.”

“Stop it, Jim,” William commanded. “Whatever it is you think you should have done is not important.” He opened his eyes, then reached out to pat Jim on the arm. “Is she…your mother here?”

“Yeah.”

William heard the pain he knew his son would never admit to feeling. “It won’t…I mean of course you can…”

“I wanna stay here.”

William winced at the whispered words, then tightened his fingers around Jim’s wrist. “I’d like that,” he admitted.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

**THE NEXT MORNING**

"So you're saying that an unknown masked man attacked both you and William Ellison. Is that right?" Fritz demanded.

Naomi glared at the detective. "For the third time, yes. That's my statement." She held up a hand to keep him from speaking. "And while the doctors gave me medication while I was unconscious, I am not now under the influence of any sedatives or mind-altering drugs. I know what I am saying, and I'm telling the truth. Now...go away."

"How do you explain the fact that Ellison's face was scratched by your nails?" Fritz persisted.

Naomi rolled her eyes. "A poorly thought out attempt to put the blame on William. Even I can figure that out."

"Okay, Fritz, you've had your interview. Complete your paperwork and file it. This case is over." 

Fritz angrily looked at Simon, then reluctantly nodded and left.

Naomi closed her eyes and relaxed. "Do you now understand my original reluctance to allow my son to associate with members of your department, Captain Banks?"

"Original reluctance?" Simon teased.

Naomi smiled. "Touche, Simon," she quietly acknowledged. "Touche."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

William's eyes opened when he heard the door to his room open, then he smiled.

"Sir, there's a woman to see you," Megan Conner quietly said. "She says her name is Grace, and that you know her."

For a few seconds, William saw in his mind's eye the beautiful young woman he had loved and married. Then he sadly closed his eyes. "Please tell her…” He cleared his throat. “Please tell her that there's really nothing left to say and that...that I do wish her well."

Megan nodded. "No problem." She closed the door and turned to face the woman patiently standing in the hall. "He said there's really nothing left to say but he wishes you well."

Grace quickly blinked twice and stared at the closed door behind Megan. Finally, she slowly nodded. "Thank you."

Megan watched the woman walk away. Rafe and Henri had filled her and Joel in on the identity of the British agents. _'Can't really see anything of Jimbo in her.'_

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"I don't understand why you didn't call last night when this happened," Steven Ellison grumbled as the elevator slowly rose.

"It was kinda hectic with everything going on," Jim wearily explained. "Besides, did you really want to have to deal with...her showing up without having a good night's sleep?"

Steven irritably glared at his brother. "I'll make up my own mind about that, okay?"

Jim held up his hands. "Fine by me."

Both brothers sighed in unison, then exchanged sheepish grins.

"How does she look?" Steven hesitantly asked.

Jim frowned. "Good," he finally answered. "She looks good."

"I can't remember my mother," Steven admitted. "I remember pictures of her...but not **her**. I wonder why that is?"

The elevator door opened and both men exited. They turned to walk down the hall and stopped, seeing Grace standing in front of them.

"Stevie?" Grace whispered in surprise.

Steven nodded, then realized that Jim had protectively moved to stand next to him. He looked up at his older brother and saw pain momentarily flash in his blue eyes. "Hey, why don't you go ahead? I'll see Dad in a few minutes."

Jim glanced at Steven, then slowly nodded. Without another word, he walked past Grace and down the hall towards William's room.

Grace grimaced, but turned to watch Jim walk away.

"Why don't we go to the lounge?" Steven gently suggested.

Grace gratefully nodded and followed him to a small room opposite the elevators. "I was going to call you later today."

"Well, this saves you the trouble," Steven smiled. He sat opposite her and then shook his head. "Sorry for staring."

"Don't apologize. I'm afraid I'm going to be staring, too," Grace admitted. "You take after my side of the family. Jim resembles William more than me."

Steven glanced at the floor then back into his mother's face. "I was telling Jim that I don't really remember you. I mean, I don't remember you tucking me into bed or playing with me. You see, Jim can remember that. So it really hurt him to not have it. It hurts him now to remember not having it." He paused. "Can you understand that?"

Grace took a deep breath. "Yes, I suppose I do. But my decision wasn't an easy one for me. Then or later."

"We all have decisions to make," Steven replied. "All we can do is make the best decisions we can at the time we have to make them. Sometimes they're good decisions and sometimes they're not."

Grace smiled. "You're a very wise man."

"Not really," Steven smiled in return. "It's just that in this case, my emotions aren't involved. Jim sees your decision as a mother's betrayal because he knows what he lost.”

Grace slowly stood. "I don't think that Jim would want me to stay in touch with him. But...can I stay in touch with you?"

Steven rose to his feet. "As long as it's between two adults who might become friends over time, yes. But you can't be my mother. That time is past." Regretfully, he saw the same pain in her eyes that he'd seen in Jim's.

"I understand," Grace nodded. "Birthday and Christmas cards?"

"It's a start," Steven agreed. He reached out and gently squeezed her hands. "Have a safe trip home."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Geoffrey sighed with relief when Grace exited the elevator. Despite all the people in the busy hospital lobby, he had no problem keeping his eyes focused solely on her. When she reached him, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Ready to go, my dear?"

Grace sighed and squeezed his hand. "Yes. It's time to go home."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

**TWO DAYS LATER**

Two days later, Naomi was comfortably settled on the couch in the loft. William stiffly sat on the other end of the couch. Jim, Steven, and Blair were in the kitchen making dinner.

William glanced over his shoulder and then at Naomi. "You realize they're trying to make us feel like a couple of teenagers."

Naomi ruefully nodded. "It's working, too."

William snorted in reluctant agreement.

In the kitchen, Blair kept an eye on the two sitting on the couch while Jim and Steven exchanged smirks. 

"So, Blair, when are you gonna ask Dad about his intentions towards your Mom?" Steven whispered.

"During dessert," Blair calmly replied. "I figure with a good meal in his stomach, he won't be able to run all that fast."

Both Naomi and William looked over their shoulders when all three men in the kitchen burst into laughter. Naomi patted William's hand, then squeezed it. "Be afraid," she warned. "Be **very** afraid."

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

"This is Don Haas reporting for Channel 8 News. Our lead story tonight is the tragic death of Erik Ryan whose private jet unexpectedly crashed in the Rocky Mountains near Vail, Colorado. Ryan was the founder, President, and CEO of Pacific Technologies, a long-time rival of Microsoft. Ryan was also a Director of many corporations and held stock either privately or through Pacific Technologies in many other corporations both in the US and abroad. His tragic death is seen by many financial analysts as…."

Dark eyes watched the television screen as the news anchor continued to report on the tragic event unfolding in the Colorado mountains. _‘I don’t like mistakes. Or the people who make them, Mr. Ryan.’_ The handsome dark-skinned man glanced out the window at the full moon and frowned.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

_'On a Full Moon, somethin' ain't right_  
Didn't see it 'til about midnight  
When it happened, seems kind of weird  
Things like this seem to appear from the shadows  
Of a Full Moon Night.' 

_(Full Moon Night - Lyrics by Gary Rossington, Johnny Van Zant, Rickey Medlocke, & Hughie  
Thompson)_


End file.
